Adventure 53
by Lady Storm
Summary: Gonff's got a gambling problem, resulting in Martin once again losing IT - that is, his house. So now they must quest through Dark Forest to get it back, like all epic adventures. Rated T for Terrific!
1. No Chimney

__

LS in the house.

_SO. This is the kind of dumb... I don't even have an appropriate noun for it yet actually, but this is what is born when I'm bored at home for the first time in ages. It's different! It's new! It's shocking! It's . Be ready for modern references and lots of "wtf" inducing material, cause that's what I do best. And I'm only working on this to wait until the Mary-Sue faze of this entire section dies down, cause let's face it, there are too many. We need a break. We need... INSANITY._

_So here's the only advice I'll give you about this – don't question it. Expect 'Of Warriors' insanity, just very toned down. Also, no worries, Martin becomes less homicidal and Gonff less idiotic after the first scene, they're not going to be repeats of their 'Of Warriors' personas. You'll see what I mean._

_Remember - Don't fight it._

- - - - - - - - - -

ADVENTURE #53

- - - - - - - - - -

Bright sunlight embraced the Forest, a golden mirror in the gurgling streams. The meekest breeze danced about the fields and trees, carrying with it the laughter of the newly-innocent and the grace of calm. Framed by the faint ripple of birds overhead, the picture of perfect peace was complete.

**"WHAAAT?"**

And the peace was no more.

"Let me get this straight. You-"

Gonff cringed and his whole frame seemed to shrink in shame, eyes meekly searching for understanding, and Martin could not even force himself to repeat what he had just been told.

"If it helps, we get to keep the dog," The mousethief quickly quipped.

"NOT – HELPING," Martin growled out, paw over his eyes as if protecting himself from an onslaught of something very disturbing. Gonff waited patiently, however still wary of his best friend.

"We don't have a dog," Martin finally mumbles into his paws, shoulders tense with disbelief.

Gonff took this as a sign that Martin had finally accepted the Truth.

Paws pushing the skin of his face down as one will in times of extreme momentary brain blockage, Martin uttered, slowly, cautiously – "You got my house repossessed."

The thief grins tremulously. "I was out of money."

Martin said nothing.

"And – and your matey Timballisto was saying, 'We always help a brotha out', well,-"

"Stop talking." Eyes shut tight, Martin turns and lets Gonff step inside the house. Feeling his way to his kitchen table, he sat down roughly.

Afraid to say anything lest he angered his best friend further, Gonff closed the special door softly and followed his friend silently, wondering if the warrior would actually snap. He had held up reasonably fine in the past – granted, the thief had only done minor stupid things in the past (often times with Martin himself's help). There was a reason this modest wooden adobe was now modest and wooden. And mysteriously lacked a chimney.

"Timballisto tried to push me off a cliff when we were dibbuns." Martin said flatly, suddenly, as if he had been engaged in conversation all along, in the manner of one who is desperately avoiding the Truth. "Don't trust him. And we can't_ have_ a dog, we're _mice_, that's just sick."

"Humans keep them as pets," Gonff added helpfully.

"Humans are ugly and kill each other for fun."

"Point taken."

Patched silence rang throughout the kitchen once again. Gonff looked about and saw that the usually mild-tempered warrior was actually close to self-implosion by shock.

"You need to get out of this place anyway! We'll hurry to finish Collie's and my house, so you can live with us for a while until we build you a new house, like you did for us."

Martin looked up at his best friend, barely believing that he was conversing as if he had accepted the recent turn of events. He said, slowly, in a tone that conveyed that he still didn't agree to this, "I don't want to get in Columbine's way."

Gonff raised his eyebrows, whiskers twitching.

"Okay, no, I'm just sick of living with you."

He winced. "Look, mate, if that's all –"

"YOU GOT MY HOUSE REPOED!!" The cry sounded slightly hysterical.

"Okay, yes, that's old news now Mister Grouchytrousers. Nothing we can do about it, so let's just-"

WHAM!

As it were, Gonff was one of the few beasts who knew firsthand that Martin was not always kind, calm, and composed.

The custom-built door was designed for easy opening from the inside, well fitted and adjusted to function perfectly. This door was made specially for Gonff – so that he could a) run away from Martin's beserk rages as fast as possible, and b) be literally thrown out at any given moment. Martin had grown sick of replacing the windows, so Skipper and Amber had pitched in as a Yuletide present. Martin had been very pleased and mildly embarrassed, and Gonff very wary.

Rolling into an awkward heap on the soft dust path, Gonff coughed and let himself up as Martin growled from the doorway, "You are getting me my house back."

And slammed the door shut.

The mousethief paused to assess the situation. As most beasts knew, he was much more clever than he let on – his reaction would probably have been close to Martin's, only more delirious and – he winced, rubbing his bottom - slightly less violent. It was understandable. Really, this barely ruffled his fur …er, figuratively. After all, Columbine would soothingly tell him, you can't be that close to someone and not be occasionally tired of them. Outbursts of rage helped vent anger and restore their friendship, right? Gonff was sure that after their slightly one-sided homicide attempts the two would be more inseparable than ever.

Speaking of marriage – "Collie!"

Gonff's wife Columbine was walking up the path with a basket full of wet clothes to be hung up and dried. She saw the door shut and the trail of dust on her husband, and sighed.

She returned Gonff's enthusiastic response by putting down her basket to brush him off fussily. "Sometimes I wonder where he gets the strength to pick you up _and _throw you," She said, preoccupied, as a way of greeting.

"Adrenaline makes you do amazing things," Gonff said nonchalantly.

Columbine raised an eyebrow. "So why would he have this adrenaline?"

"Um. I barely lost a very intense, very close, _almost_ won game of 'Apples to Apples' and got his house repoed?"

Gonff smiled widely. It was so bright a butterfly nearby fried up and dropped to the ground, charred.

"Gonff," Columbine started slowly. "I'm just going to skip the part where I tell you how unbelievable that is, as I'm sure Martin took care of that, and tell you that this means Martin has nowhere to live. And since our house is still being built and we were staying with him, neither do we."

Her husband sighed. "But sugarplum, there was nothing else I could do! I had to save my fur somehow – you never saw those brutes, they could twist me into a yummy yummy pretzel!" He continued, eyes growing wide, "If I didn't pay up what I owed, I would be !"

He could have continued to try milking the nonexistent pity for what it was worth, but Columbine's face stayed blank. "So you gave away your best friend's house."

This time when Gonff smiled, the leaves on the nearby tree shriveled.

She sighed dejectedly. "I should have known something bad had happened when a bird suddenly dropped on the laundry." She flicked the offending corpse away. "And I'm afraid of what this means if I'm spending the rest of my life with you."

Gonff looked at the charred bundle of feathers on the ground dispassionately. "Don't worry, me little princess of poise, darlin' majestic maiden. Martin's not going to lose his house."

Columbine looked up. "You have a plan?"

The tree burst into flame.

* * *

"You can stay with us," Luke offered. "Or I'm sure Rose's family wouldn't mind-"

"No," Martin grunted out. "That's not the point. I want my _house_."

The warrior's parents sighed. At least Gonff was still as alive as he could be in Dark Forest.

"Look, it's not that bad. Gonff's done things like this before. Remember when he blew up your chimney?" His mother Sayna said cheerfully, trying to lighten the mood, but Martin killed it repetitively and painfully by her an 'are-you-serious-right-now' look.

"…Or when you both made your own nitric-glycerin and set your mattress on fire?"

Martin kept his lead stare.

"Okay, yes, it's bad, but it'll blow over. He wouldn't do something stupid like this if there weren't a reason, or a way to repair it…"

Sayna's words trailed off as her son's look said, plainly, "please stop talking".

"Alright, fine, what do I know," Sayna huffed and bustled about to the kitchen to fix supper, ignoring her husband and son.

Luke raised an eyebrow and looked down at his son seated at their large table. "You know, Vurg used to do those things to me all the time. Once we had a swordfight with pieces of wood to see which ones would snap and kill us first…"

Martin grunted, not wanting to hear any stories. Luke frowned. "You're being a little ridiculous about this."

"Yes, you certainly don't want to be this wound up when Rose and her family come over for dinner…" his mother added.

The warrior raised his eyes to what would have been the heavens, but they were _in_ heaven, so he guessed he was raising them to the undead clouds. "Why does no one seem to understand the gravity of this situation?"

"Well, you'll fix it, won't you?" Sayna cut in from the window in between the dining room and the kitchen. "You're not going to let it happen, right?"

Martin blinked.

* * *

"Up, up, sleepyhead, we're going on an adventure."

Gonff blinked the sleep from his eyes and looked up to see Martin leaning over him, expression clouded and figure framed by the star speckled night sky. He glanced around to see the trees and grass about him and remembered that he hadn't been allowed back inside the house.

"You're talking to me again?" Gonff asked hopefully.

With a sigh of displeasure, Martin said, "Unfortunately, yes. Now come on, ye pudgy piddler, we're going to get my house back." And he held out a paw to help his friend up.

Happily Gonff the Mousethief took the offered paw and sprang up. "I swear sometimes, mate, it's like we share a brain. I was just sayin' to me lovely wife that I was plannin' on going back there meself and bothering those buggers."

Martin shrugged his shoulders and started to walk down the path, away from his house outside of which Gonff had been sleeping. "There's really nothing else we can do. However I think we might have to acquire a little extra company if we need to get my property back by force or skill."

"So why are we leaving now, at night?"

"See, mate, you remember Folgrim? And the Mask?"

Gonff nodded, eyes wide. "A little extra brain and brawn, eh? Good job, I say. Although personally I think we could have covered those two fronts on our own, eh, chum?" the mousethief joked with a friendly shove at the warrior.

Martin smiled grimly. "You can never be sure. Anyhow, they live a little distance from here, and there are other stops we need to make before we're off."

"We need supplies," Gonff assumed.

"Exactly. Rose and my mother offered to pack us some things…"

And the two outlined the vague plan to each other, filling in inquired information.

After a while of silence, Gonff wondered:

"Say, matey, if we shared a brain, which half do you think I'd have?"

"Oh, I don't know, the smallest one I suppose…"

And they walked away under the cloak of night and tragic stars towards uncertain danger.

- - - - - - - - - -

TBC

- - - - - - - - - -

_Could someone help me think of a name for this fic? I'm stumped. Helpful suggestions welcome as well, ffnet butchers positioning and letters like a slasher movie, so if you spot anything awry it'd be neat if you could point it out. kthnx. _


	2. Maybe Poker

_Whoops, the disclaimer. I do not own any characters or locations within this fanfic, they are property of Brian Jacques, and I am merely playing with his creations. And by 'playing' I really mean 'dismantling'. _

- - - - - - - - - - -

ADVENTURE #53

002

- - - - - - - - - - -

"So, you know, we didn't really walk off into the night."

Martin and Rose paused in the middle of packing their haversacks for the impromptu journey. They were in her family's humble abode, as Martin had come by to glumly relay the news of the loss of his house, much to Urran Voh's frowning disapproval.(1) In the end Martin and Urran were on agreeable, respectful terms – though Urran Voh was not content to hear that Martin would now have no place to live, or that his daughter would once again go off gallivanting to Jacques knows where.

But back to the situation at paw.

Rose cleared her throat. "Er, what?"

Gonff straightened up off the doorway. "Well, at the end of the last chapter, it said that we walked off into the night. We didn't really, seeing as it's still night and we stopped walking."

Martin closed his eyes and breathed in deep, realizing his friend was once again about to cross the impenetrable line between reality and fanverse. "Stop talking."

Gonff pouted. "Well I was just saying-"

"Now. Before Brian Jacques realizes we're on to him and we all shatter into figments of imagination," the Warrior hissed with urgency.

At the brink of their minds they thought they could feel the edges of their reality quiver and shake, much like someone will shake a can of whipped cream before making themselves a beard. Their dimension, sadly, was much less sturdier than whipped cream, as it was only held together by the imagination of a few thousand individuals. So, in short, it was altogether very possible.

A laugh filled the room as Rose shook her head at the pair. "Come on, you two. You really don't want to break up the ranks before we even set off!"

Everybeast dutifully ignored Chief of Noonvale Urran Voh's sigh.

"So… what is the situation, exactly, Martin?" Aryah asked kindly, overriding her spouse's negative attitude.

"Ah, the situation… well, given that I _wasn't even there_, I don't truthfully know." Martin paused to make sure Gonff looked cowed and sorry enough, and when the mousethief had whimpered satisfactorily, he continued. "But… I do have a plan..." though he said it tentatively, with the air of one who did not want to elaborate.

There was a full silence.

After a while even the silence itself became slightly uncomfortable, and it prodded somebeast to say something.

"What… plan?" Aryah asked.

"I was hoping you wouldn't ask," Martin winced.

"We march up to their residence and threaten bodily harm or a fair alternative until they give up," Gonff announced cheerfully.

Aryah and Urran Voh shared a glance, a dark one, one that said "Is it too late to pull Rose out of this before she runs off to harass a mobster?" The answer was obviously yes, because they both looked at Martin in a defeated manner.

"Er," Aryah finished. "Very good."

Urran Voh nodded, still not completely at ease with the new progression of things, and they all quietly finished their business. The engaged couple was sorting the last of the food and the parents were sipping their tea carefully.

"Well this is a sobering evening," Rose mumbled.

Gonff grinned and tried to lighten the situation. "It'll be alright, me buckos, sir and lady. You know us. We put the 'fun' in 'dysfunctional'. And you've never seen a more capable or dashing Prince of Mousethieves. Here, my dame, is that your whisker I hold in mine paw?" He presented Aryah a whisker, secretly off his own muzzle, and the lady giggled, pleasantly amused. Martin and Rose smiled at his antics.

At last, with a few more solid goodbyes and hugs, the threesome were on their way.

And THIS TIME, they really did walk off into the night.

* * *

Kind of.

The Patriarch's family's home lay in the centre of a pleasantly simple but unimportant town. Past the town boundaries, a few trees over to the left, down the stream a bit, then the second clearing to the right stood Martin's house. Martin had been completely unaware of Rose's location in the town below and chose this site for his house only because he didn't wish to mingle with society unless forced, but he did like to go have a few beers with Gonff and Skip (not Timballisto, he was an irritating drunk) now and then. Plus, his parents lived in another clearing over to the west, and various ex-Redwallers lived about the woods, so Martin was still close to friends and family. Anyhow, it had been quite an interesting day when he accidentally met his long lost love again in the town square at two in the morning.(2)

Presently, there was only the tired silence of marching through the town back to Martin's place.

"You know, this whole journey – slash – getting rations thing could have waited until mornin', mate." Gonff pointed out. "I mean, I know you didn't have enough at your place, and you wanted to get started, but…"

Martin grunted and blinked away the tiredness from his eyes. "I wanted a head start, and the thought of you trampling my lawn irritated me. We'll spend the night at my house and get the other guys in the morning."

Rose and Gonff grinned. They knew what this meant.

"POKER PARTY!!"

"No! Gambling is what got me _into_ this mess – hey! No, you guys, I'm serious… come back… aww…."

1 - It had been hard but worthwhile to convince him that maybe Martin wasn't a _complete_ berserker, his family was sane, although not stable, enough, and that Rose really did love him and would marry him, daddy's permission or no, even if she had to do so in an abandoned shack filled with porcupine poop.

2 - But that's a story for a few chapters later.

- - - - - - - - - - -

TBC

- - - - - - - - - - -

_Chapters will be short but (hopefully) numerous …and humorous._

_So I, uh, wouldn't mind an occasional beta reader once in a while. I sometimes get so wrapped up with what I'm writing at the moment that I forget the big picture, and I think it shows. It would have to be someone who could tolerate, or (even more scary) understand my twisted take on humour, pop culture, and bashing of universes (which I do frequently). Let me know. You'll be my favouritest person, everest. _


	3. Lots Of Fish

_Heehee, whoops. Forgot to upload this... gigantic grin Thanks Decemberbliss! ...And go read her stuff too: they're NOT sue-slaying fics! D New and exciting concept, isn't it? /rant  
_

- - - - - - - - - - -

ADVENTURE #53

003

- - - - - - - - - - -

The next morning only he felt refreshed.

"I toooooold you," Martin the Warrior sang, his voice dripping with so much scolding arrogance that if a beast tried to step on it they would slip and break both legs.

He stood over his fiancée, who was disgruntedly waking on the couch and at the moment cursing everything both alive and undead. Gonff had apparently forgotten that he lived here too, as he had his own room, but was certainly not occupying it. Instead he was splayed on the floor in some awkward position, with his leg doing some strange bendy thing over his head against the coffee table.

Columbine walked in from the kitchen holding two cups of coffee and handed one to Martin, joining him in his gloating of the pair.

"Gambling, drinking, crime, MTV…" she shuddered at the horrible thoughts. "What has the world come to?" Columbine took a sip of her coffee and eyed the chips scattered about. There was even one stuck in the fireplace's mortar, somehow, but she would rather not think about it.

Martin shrugged. "It's fanfiction." He took a large gulp of caffeine to help lighten the sobering statement.

Columbine raised her eyes to the ethereal heavens. "Jacques help us, that means anything can happen."

"Gurrrrrrghrrh," Gonff agreed from the floor and kicked his leg a bit.

The Warrior, however, was energized from the coffee and shot of tequila he indiscreetly swigs every morning. "Well, seeing as we're all up…Time to get going!" he said brightly.

Rose rolled her eyes, perhaps looking for relief from above. The only thing that came to her was a headache.

"Looks like they're in top shape and ready to move," Columbine said flatly.

* * *

Two hours later (hey, it took time to look presentable and be at least fit to face the world, if not ready, because let's face it, no beast ever would be. The world is a large and cruel place.) and the quartet was well on its way.

"Wait, quartet?" Gonff looked about in alarm to find his wife calmly at his side.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Any reason I _wouldn't_ go?"

"Er, no, just, you never went on adventures with us before, and… er… urmohsnap."

Rose placed a soothing paw on his forearm. "Stop while you're ahead. You know women can go into uncontrollable rages at the slightest provocation."

Martin nodded furiously out of Rose's sight.

"…Right. You look very beyoo-tiful today me darlin,'" Gonff tried again.

Columbine rolled her eyes. "Humph!"

Marching through the forest was a merry affair. They stopped at most whims, for their destination was not far and nobeast was against a good time. There was even a food fight in there somewhere, but that stopped real quick when they realized what exactly they were fighting with.

And so, with much said merrymaking, they found their way to Folgrim's mansion.

"Um," said Columbine.

"Oh," agreed Rose.

"Well, mark my whiskers," finished Gonff.

"Yep." Martin affirmed. "It pays to have connections with a whole empire of otters, let me tell you."(1)

"So do we, ah, knock?" Rose hesitated, unmoving from her spot in front of the gigantic house. "Four storeys, really, that's not necessary…" she mumbled to herself.

"Let me warn you first." Martin addressed the two maids. "Folgrim's a gentle soul, but he's doubtlessly… odd. He went a little wrong in the head in his childhood, and some of his habits may frighten you, but it's alright. He will do us no harm."

Gonff nodded. "Aye. Poor fellow's been doing a lot better afore he died, though... Think he'll still be the same now?"

The warrior shrugged. "I really don't know. This whole dying business is pretty tricky…"

They all nodded in agreement. No beast wanted to open _that_ can of worms(2).

Gonff did the honors and climbed the wide stone steps to the porch and firmly knocked on the door. There was a solid thump throughout the house as his pounding on the door ceased. A window somewhere on the third floor to the right opened and Folgrim's head peeked out from the intervening curtains. "Gimme jerst a minute, mates," he bellowed down to them, and the curtains fluttered again as he left.

They followed his progress through the house by the noise of somebeast rolling down the stairs.

In record time the front door opened and Folgrim's younger but still worn and scarred face greeted them all gleefully. The supposedly mad otter looked rather beat up and his left ear might have been bleeding, but they'd all rather not think about that either. Folgrim saw Gonff and immediately wrapped him up in a crushing hug.

"Awooooo! Heeheehee! If it ain't me best mates at my door!"

Technically, only Gonff was at the otter's door, as Martin was hovering by the steps and Rose and Columbine were inspecting the wholly captivating grass a little further away. However, Martin approached the quickly suffocating mousethief whom Folgrim released upon sight of the warrior. Gonff gasped some oxygen back into his depleted face as Martin was given the same treatment, although he was better prepared for it.

"Martin matey! Wot a surprise!"

"Aye, good to see you Fol. How's this place been treating you?"

The otter chuckled. "Bah, it keeps me warm at night, true enough, but other than that, I don't have much use fer it. I was thinkin' of givin' it away!" (A light went on over Gonff's head but Martin extinguished it by elbowing him in the rib.)

"Well, I take it you're sick of livin' in one place, having a boring easy life, eh?" Martin smiled.

The otter's eyes flickered to the female mice as he answered. "Aye, that's right. I wouldn't mind another journey to some far off northlands again, har har! But golly, who be dese pretty maids? I reckon I recognize one of 'em."

Gonff introduced them. "This is me wife, Columbine, as you've met before. This here is Laterose, from over beyond the valley. She's Martin's fiancée."

Folgrim cackled at the news but greeted them both in his own rough but polite way. "Mighty glad t'meet ye both! I'm Folgrim." He grinned widely, exposing his gleaming daggers for teeth of all unnatural and unpleasant shapes and sharpness. Rose shuddered besides herself, though she took comfort in that no beast else seemed scared. In any case Rose and Columbine both greeted him warmly.

"Would ye all like to come inside? I've some brew goin', and we can chat like fancy liddle ladies about to what I owe dis visit." the otter grinned again.

* * *

A little later they were all indeed seated in Folgrim's neat dining room (neat only because he never used it), trying to politely inhale the stew that tasted slightly too meaty. And after little to no persuasion at all:

"But of course I'll go!" Folgrim stood up excitedly. "S'first time I've left the house to do anything other than fish fer my dinner!

"…Well that settles that then," Martin said.

- - -

1 - This was truer than you could imagine. The otters were an expansive, awesome force you would not like to meet in the dead of night on the wrong side of the battlefield with the last serving of hotroot soup. Naturally they had branched over the entire Dark Forest's vast lands (not all of which, as many wonder, are forests). To have one otter friend was to have twenty, so to have twenty friends was to have four hundred. And then to have two _royal friends_ on top of that… well, you understand. With this in mind, a mansion with two Jacuzzis was no big deal. Yes, you read that right. Two Jacuzzis.

2 - None of them were Biopsychosocial & Personality Psychologists, which was a severely underpaid field, or had taken their elective Biopsychology of Death class in high school. It just wasn't cool.

- - - - - - - - - - -

TBC

- - - - - - - - - - -

_ I dunno if Skip 'n Mask 'n Folgrim are royalty, per say, but it's always been kind of insinuated, or so it seems to me. I also had the notion that they were all related. Am I wrong? I haven't read any Redwall book in ages (yeah I fail). _


End file.
